


and the footsteps tread closer

by checkmyshoe123



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Graceland Kinkmeme, M/M, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:36:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkmyshoe123/pseuds/checkmyshoe123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to a prompt on the kinkmeme.</p>
<p>Floorboards creak and glass shatters - that is when Mike runs. He's not a victim, he's just...struggling. </p>
<p>Demons come haunting. An op goes south.</p>
<p>Things don't look good for Mike Warren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from the kinkmeme:  
> Briggs and Mike are out and about, maybe on a case or just out surfing, and they run into someone from Mike's past who Mike doesn't seem happy to see. Maybe they were an ass to him in high school, maybe they dated and they hurt Mike; just cue some hurt/angsty Mike and some worried/protective Briggs. (Yes, the pilot just aired and I already want my dose of hurt/comfort. I am slightly ashamed.)  
> http://graceland-kink.dreamwidth.org/1555.html?thread=787#cmt787
> 
> Part One is the shortest so hang tight.

One of the first things the team noticed about Mike was that he always got up at the asscrack of dawn. By 6 a.m. he would be out the door, jogging god knows where, not returning for another hour and a half at least. By the time the entire team was assembled in the shared living space by the kitchen around 9:30, Mike would be starting on his chores for the day. 

Because all the other team members were working active cases, most of them had irregular schedules that constantly shifted based on the condition of their respective ops. Aside from Mike, Jakes probably had the most consistent schedule while Charlie and Paige had the most hectic.

Another thing that everyone quickly learned was that Mike was _neat_. When Lauren had told Mike not to touch any of Donny’s stuff, it seemed like he really hadn’t. Not a single item had been moved or shifted in that room. Mike’s suitcase was still tucked into the corner between the bed and the wall and the bed always looked like it hadn’t been slept it. Cleaning supplies went back into their correct cupboards down to the same exact spot, corners lined up and bottle labels pointed outward. 

By his second week people scrambled to get Mike to cook food for them and he struggled to figure out how to cook larger portions, especially after a vicious fight that broke out between Johnny and Paige over a slice of lasagna. 

Out of all of them, Mike was the most domestic, and it was obvious why: bad social skills.

He typically avoided eye-contact. Or, to be more precise, he _forgot_ about eye-contact. He would seemingly get distracted by his shoes but when he remembered to actually look at the other person’s face he would start to stutter or he would glance back and forth between eyes. He never initiated conversation and when people spoke to him he seemed caught off-guard, keeping answers short and direct.

He constantly twiddled with his phone or earbuds or watch between his fingers, a nervous habit he probably never quite shook off. He seemed constantly on edge, even lounging on the beach with a cool bottle of beer in hand. 

Johnny teased him about his body shyness, always with a t-shirt on, fiddling with the hem. “You’re gonna get the worst farmer’s tan!” he always said with a laugh, throwing Mike a tube of sunscreen. It was in good humor as he tried to get Mike to engage with the others, coaxing him into the ocean by splashing at him with water.

The t-shirt stayed on.

No one really figured there was anything “wrong” with Mike except for his aversion to bars. (“How could you not like bars?”) They guessed it was partly because without fail he always managed to get groped by men and women alike. He tensed up around crowds of people and avoided the leering stares as best he could. He usually ended staying back at Graceland with Jakes, who cited that he was “getting too old for this shit.” Mike would be in bed by the time Briggs, Lauren, and Paige hauled a seriously inebriated Johnny in. 

Everything was fine, until The Incident.


	2. Chapter 2

Mike fucked up.

Sure, he was quick thinking and smart with a gun but sometimes he was just out of his depth. Honestly, there hadn’t been enough intel on the case and it probably would have been safer to scope it out for at least another week but they were short on time and the bureau was pressuring them to just hurry up and nab the baddie. 

Long story short, they didn’t.

Richard Duvall was now on the run, probably halfway around the world at this point, with half a million dollars unaccounted for and two dead bodies left in his wake, all because Mike said the wrong thing.

Now Mike was wallowing in the corner, curled up on the edge of the sofa, too aware of the tense silence that filled the room, wincing every time Briggs set his bottle down a bit too forcefully onto the countertop. The rest of the team was conversing the the kitchen while Mike sat by himself in the living room but the raised voices were audible throughout the rest of the house.

A feeling of dread washed over him as footsteps drew near and Charlie stood in front of him, not saying anything. She regarded him for a moment, taking in his huddled form curled up in a sweater, before squatting next to him.

“Mike... You may have noticed Briggs is a little upset -” glass shattered and Mike flinched. “but just know that whatever he says isn’t necessarily a reflection of what everyone else thinks because -” she pauses. “Well, let’s just say that Briggs can overreact and sometimes he’s just a dick.”

Charlie pats his knee and leaves to join the others in the kitchen.

Mike’s mind runs the scenarios over and over, thoughts moving quickly and stumbling over each other. Things he could’ve said, things he should have noticed, better reaction time, less stupidity, jesus what a fuck up, fucking idiot -

His thoughts are interrupted as Briggs slams his way into the room. He has murder in his eyes and beer in his hand.

Mike struggles to sit up straighter on the couch, tucking his hands into his sleeves to try and hide the tremors. “Briggs, I -”

“Shut up.”

The others have quietly filed into the room behind him, looking anxiously between the two. From the arguing earlier it seems like Johnny and Paige were trying to defend him from Briggs’ wrath, but now everyone looks sort of...passive, except for Briggs, who looks like he’s about to spit nails.

Briggs stalks closer and Mike inadvertently shrinks back into the cushions. Briggs’ jaw is clenching and unclenching as he approaches, before he stops himself just a few feet away.

“Mike,” he bites out, voice tight. “Would you care to explain what happened earlier?”

Mike swallows nervously, rising from the couch to stand in front of Briggs. “I just thought if I -”

“No, Mike. No. You didn’t think, you just _blabbed_ and crossed your fingers and figured that your _dumb luck_ would keep you out of trouble. And, as I’m sure you know, it didn’t, and you fucked up, big time. Isn’t that right? Hmm?”

Mike didn’t respond. 

Briggs laughed, no humor in his tone. “That’s right, nothing to say for yourself.”

“Briggs -” Jakes tried to cut in.

He sharply turned and gave him a venomous look that had him step back. 

“Seriously kid. I swear to _god_ if you do that again I’m going to fucking _kill you!_ ” Briggs shouts, whirling back around to face the kid, beer bottle raised high, poised as if to strike. 

Instinct got to the best of him. He heard the raised voice, and the anger, and saw the flash of light off the bottle and the man coming at him. And he cowered.

Not a flinch, not a cringe, but an actual duck and cover, arms around the head, eyes shut tight and breathing ragged and panicked. The room was silent save for Mike’s rapid pants, and when he realized that Briggs _wasn’t actually going to hit him,_ jesus, his breathing slowed and he uncurled a bit, hands shaking, body thrumming with adrenaline. 

“You don’t think I would actually...” His voice was subdued, and he took two steps closer to Mike, reaching out to touch his shoulder and stopping as Mike frantically took two steps back without thinking.

“Shit, kid,” Johnny breathed out. Mike’s breathing hitched and he hid his face in his shaking hands. 

Briggs stood still in front of him, seemingly stuck in appalled shock, anger completely dissolved, until Jakes and Charlie pulled him out of the room into some other section of the house. 

“C’mon, let’s sit down, huh? Can we do that?” Paige cautiously took a step forward, watching as Mike shied away but didn’t actually step back. She approached him as if he were a skittish animal, hands open and placed in front of her. His eyes flickered between her shoes and the floor between them, fingers clutching nervously at the sleeves of his sweater. 

She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and couldn’t help but feel guilty as he flinched and tensed, guiding him back to the couch. He immediately brought his legs up and dropped onto his side, curling into a ball and tucking his arms against his belly. He eyeline remained below knee-level.

She crouched beside him and murmured nonsensical phrases to him, gently stroking his side and shifting as she felt Johnny come crouch beside her to do the same. Soon his breathing calmed and the shakes that preciously wracked his frame ceased as they continued to speak to him in soft voices, watching as the adrenaline left his system and his eyes shut in exhaustion.

Lauren watched from the corner of the room, not saying a word.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this fic on and off, and am about halfway through part 2. I'm planning roughly four to five parts and it's technically gen but there's some Mike/Briggs if you squint. I will be posting trigger warnings for each chapter's content, but this story will contain non-con, domestic violence, emotional abuse, and canon-typical violence.
> 
> There may/may not be a final edit of this.


End file.
